


Opinions of a Dovah and Dovahkiin

by geekygirl007



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen, Short Stories
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2018-08-10 09:52:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 18,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7840168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geekygirl007/pseuds/geekygirl007
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short stories about my Dragonborn Kat and giving her opinions as she adventures through the land of Skyrim! From chatting with Paarthurnax at the Throat of the world to solving stupidly easy puzzle doors, there's always something to do in Skyrim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Give that Guy a Raise

**Author's Note:**

> Guest starring: Whiterun guard #9

Lugging nearly five-hundred pounds of weapons, armor, and jewels to sell at Whiterun Kat came across a guard in yellow armor. Tired and annoyed Kat stopped. What had she done now? It seemed every other day the guards would arrest her for ridiculous reasons. Stealing flowers, accidentally hitting bystanders when fighting evil, riding dragons into town and "endangering" citizens. Since when had riding a dragon (who wasn't even killing anybody) into town against the law? But nevertheless she had been charged for doing just that on multiple occasions. Usually it ended after Kat killed her mount and even still the Jarl would make her pay a fine. Unfortunately that didn't explain why this guard was here. Perhaps someone had seen her kill that skooma addict up the road. Even though Kat was khajiit she couldn't stand moon sugar or skooma. She had done the world a service by putting that addict out of his misery.

"My cousin is off fighting dragons and what do I get? Guard duty." Grumbled the guard walking right by her towards the ruins of the old western watchtower. Rolling her eyes Kat continued down the road. She hated guards and their endless complaints. And how could so many of them have been shot in the knee?

Up in the sky the strange green, and purple, and blue lights danced among the stars. From the position of the moons Kat could tell it was around midnight, though her khajiiti eyes made her well adjusted to night travel. Kat yawned tiredly, she had walked all the way from Windstad manor to get here and would thoroughly enjoy resting her head on her bed in Jorrvaskr. In the morning she could sell her load and hopefully get a chance to talk to Farkas if he wasn't off killing something.

A familiar screech coming from the sky interrupted her thought. Sharp teeth, grey wings, bringing fire and destruction in its wake, a dragon no doubt. Sighing Kat let her heavy bag fall onto the dirt road, the armor and weapons clanged together on the inside. Thankfully she didn't have anything too breakable in there. Kat growled in annoyance, she didn't have any bloody time for this, not to mention any room in her bag for dragon bones! Talos knows she had places to be, stuff to steal, things to do other than killing dragons every five minutes! Unfortunately though she had the responsibility of being dragonborn and thus was obligated to kill the winged beast.

Kat had half a mind to whistle and stroll away like nothing was wrong but hadn't the heart to do so. Far away by the watchtower the dragon landed with a thud and Kat finally drew her stalhrim sword in her left hand, producing a healing spell in her right. As she closed the distance between herself and the beast Kat realized the guard from before had beaten her to it. Courageously he leapt onto the dragon's head and plunged his sword deep into its flesh. With a terrible cry of pain dragon flopped to the ground in a great mass of tail, legs, and wings. Desperate not to be crushed under the creature's colossal weight the guard jumped off at the last second and rolled as he hit the dirt.

Surprised by the guards apparent usefulness Kat made a "hmph" sound. Perhaps not all guards were utterly useless, racist nords after all.

"They should give that guy a raise." Suggested Kat to another passing guard as she went to pick her bag back up.

"Wait, I know you!" The guard said pointing at her. On second thought, maybe all guards were exactly the same, ignorant buffoons thought Kat shaking her head. She had been right all along, or maybe Jarl Balgruuf just thought it would be hilarious if his guards hassled her.

"Well, gotta run!" She called cheerily tossing the sack filled with weapons and armor at the guard. It wouldn't be worth much anyway and maybe the gold he could earn from selling it would be enough for him to keep his mouth shut. Distracted by the hundreds of pounds of adventuring gear in his face the guard was helpless as Kat strolled away whistling.


	2. Bear, Butterfly, Owl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today we go back to one of Kat's earlier days of adventuring, to Bleak Falls Barrow!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this story Kat has done the Companions quest up to the point where she discovers they are werewolves before going back to do the main quest with the help of Farkas.

“Bear, butterfly, owl?” Kat guesses what the symbols on the palm of the claw stood for, as per Farkas’ instruction. As Kat read out the markings Farkas turned an odd stone wheel in the wall to match what she had said.

“See? Easier than being punched in the face.” Joked Farkas taking the golden claw from Kat and lining it up with the keyhole.

“Wait!” Kat called, her voice echoing across the chamber. In two steps she reached the nord, preventing him from placing the claw in the keystone. “What if you’re wrong? The trap will spring and you’ll be turned into a pincushion. Really think about it Farkas, if you created a puzzle lock would you really put the code on the key?” Kat asked digging her claws into Farkas’ wrist unintentionally.

“You should know by now that Vilkas is the smart one shield-sister.” Laughed the nord appearing calm, but inside he was beginning to believe if he placed the claw he’d be stuck full of arrows.

“Very reassuring.” Kat growled back, her slitted eyes narrowing in annoyance. Could he really not notice the sharp claws in his flesh? Or did he simply not care? Either way Kat could smell the growing scent of doubt coming off him, not to mention his steadily increasing heart beat.

“Come now Kat, you saw me turn into a big hairy beast. You trusted me then, don’t you trust me now?” Farkas reminded her a sly smile crossing his face.

“You’re always a big hairy beast, Farkas.” Smiled Kat. She was almost tempted to kiss the fool on his full lips as she pushed his hand forward. With a delicate “clink” the golden claw shifted into place.

"Get down!" Cried Farkas. Convinced he was wrong and that the trap would go off any moment Farkas tackled Kat to the floor. If arrows were to rain down upon them his steel armor would deflect them much better than Kat's studded leather. To his surprise the only sound he heard was of something metal crash to the ground below. Under the weight of the large armored nord Kat was practically being crushed, and on top of that she was trapped in a rather uncomfortable position.

Ancient gears hidden within the walls lowered the door with a ghastly creak, revealing the chamber beyond, if only Kat could turn to see it. No arrows fired from the slits in the walls, the only thing that moved was the dust falling from the ceiling.

"Get off." Kat hissed. Laying on her stomach she tried awkwardly to turn her head and growl in Farkas' general direction. Suddenly dawning on him what the situation must have looked like, especially on Kat's end Farkas scrambled off of her.

"A-apologies Kat." He said red colour rising in his usually pale cheeks. Shyly Farkas rubbed the back of his neck as his feline companion gracefully stood up and turned around. It occurred too late to Farkas that he should have helped her up. Kat oft said the stereotype that khajiits were as graceful their cat cousins was incorrect and offensive. But the more he saw of her suggested otherwise. So either she truly was as graceful as a cat or just picked this particular moment to show off.

"No harm done shield-brother." Shrugged Kat as she inspected the door frame. "Incredible!"

"What is it?" Farkas asked worriedly, his hand instinctively moving towards the hilt of his long sword. Silently Kat picked up the gold dragon claw that had popped out of the keyhole onto the floor. Smiling she held it out to Farkas, showing him the symbols on its palm. After Farkas got a good long look Kat tossed it to him, not checking to see if he caught it before stepping through the doorway.

"It's incredible! The ancient nords were bigger fools than you!" Her hysterical laughter got fainter and fainter the farther she got from him. "What kind of person puts the code on the key? Ha bloody fools!"


	3. Castle Volkihar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kat travels to castle Volkihar with Serana where she is given the opportunity to cure her beast blood.

The dark castle loomed over Kat and Serana, it's spires towering above them in the grey, misty sky. Hawks circled from above occasionally disappearing into the fog and cawing at each other angrily fighting over food. Kat gulped worriedly, not many things in Skyrim could make her nervous but the thought of this huge castle containing a whole court of ancient vampires sent a shiver down her spine. Silently she glanced back at the boat they left by the crumbling docks and thought about rowing as fast as she could back to the mainland, instead she cleared her throat to speak.

"So this is where you live? I didn't picture it being so big."

"Yep, home sweet castle." Serana answered cheerily as they headed to the stone bridge. Eerie looking gargoyles guarded the entrance, wearily Kat shrank back from the statues. She didn't know much about the creatures encased in stone, other than they liked to break out of their shells and give you one hell of a jump scare before tearing you to shreds. Eagerly Kat's dog Meeko sniffed one of the gargoyles before realizing what it was and retreating with a whine back to his owner.

"I'm sure your friends would like to kill everything in here, but I was hoping you could show a little restraint. Once we're inside just...well just follow my lead and let me do the talking." Serana warned turning back to look at Kat before entering.

"Oh I know. If I tried anything in there I'd be dead in two seconds, or worse a slave for all eternity." Kat gulped again as she, Meeko and Serana entered the vampire lair. Immediately Kat was met with the stench of flesh rotting, death, and blood, it was next to unbearable. They were on a balcony that overlooked a large dining hall, two long tables covered in red cloth led to a throne at the opposite end. It reminded her of the great hall in Dragonsreach, with the Jarl seated in his throne, except Jarl Balgruuf was human. Taking full advantage of this unique opportunity Kat took some time to count out the vampires, four at that table, five by the other one, the one in the throne, plus the two that just emerged from a side room, three walking towards her. Or did I already count them? Kat thought, either way there were more than enough to make short work of her.

"How dare you trespass here! Wait, lady Serana?" Called one of the vampires walking up the stairs, a pair of death hounds close at his heels. Curiously the hounds sniffed at Meeko, their dark auras following them every which way. Glowing red eyes bore into Meeko's and he backed right into Kat trying to avoid their giant metallic teeth. Playfully one of the death hounds rolled onto his back, wagging his little stump of a tail. It was strange to see a creature of pure evil acting rather like a dog than the vicious killer it was supposed to be, but as vulnerable as it was rolling around on its back it could still bite your hand off.

"At long last my daughter has returned! Do you still have the Elder Scroll?" Bellowed the vampire seated on the throne. While Serana and her father caught up Kat wandered about pocketing coins, potions and other small trinkets that would not be missed until finally Lord Harkon addressed her directly.

“This is the one that freed you my daughter? What is your name traveler?” Asked Harkon, being rather polite for a vampire. 

“I’m Kat.” She answered simply pretending to be much more confident than she truly felt. All the vampires and death hounds in the room made Kat uneasy and she didn’t notice when her hand drifted down to the hilt of her sword.

“Kat,” Harkon repeated. “Simple, easy to remember. Well Kat there is but one gift I can give you that is of equal value to the scroll and my daughter. I offer you my blood.”

Instantly Kat grew suspicious, she was of the Dawnguard. Sworn to kill vampires to protect the people of Skyrim, becoming one didn’t sound in her best interest. And there was always the problem that she was a werewolf. Her beast blood making her immune to such diseases, it was part of the reason Isran sent her on so many missions.

“What will it do to me if I’m a werewolf?” She wondered genuinely curious.

“Walk with me Kat.” The vampire lord ordered turning away from the court to a set of stairs. Heart in her throat Kat followed him, it was probably some kind of trap but she feared angering him more than anything right now. A whole court of vampires swarming around her and sucking the very life from her was something Kat tried-and failed- not to think about.

Harkon led Kat into what seemed to be his personal chambers. One wall was lined with bookshelves and display cases, the other a cage and table displaying various instruments of torture. A closer look in the glass case revealed a pelt of dark fur, a werewolf pelt there was no mistaking. Was that what Harkon had planned for her? To end up just another display or rug on his floor? Nords liked to shout ‘I could use a new rug!’ before trying to kill her, but Harkon seemed the sort who would actually make good on that promise.

“I could smell it on you the moment you walked in, my blood would cleanse that taint from your body.” Explained Harkon. Kat thought about taking his deal for longer than she would like to admit. To be rid of the beast blood would be wonderful, no longer would she have to hide her true nature from her family and friends. All those moonlit nights scaring villagers over, no more Vigilants of Stendarr hunting her down for being a wolf. But trading one curse for another?

“What will it be Khajiit? Are you a cat or a wolf?” Harkon finally demanded, growing impatient.

Silently Kat stared at the pelt, that could have been a fallen comrade for all she knew, and she would not stand with these blood-suckers.

“I am both.” Said Kat with true confidence this time. "I refuse your gift, now if instead you'll allow me to leave..."

"Then you are prey, and shall be banished from my castle." Sighed Harkon almost sadly, he didn't seem angry just disappointed. His horrible glowing eyes were the lasts thing Kat saw before her vision faded to black.

When Kat awoke there was grey sand stuck to her whiskers, she was on the beach just outside castle Volkihar. Meeko nudged her impatiently, willing her to get back in the boat and leave this awful place behind. Eagerly Kat climbed into the rowboat and grabbed the oars, they didn't need to tell her twice. There was just one more tiny problem, what in Oblivion was she going to tell Isran?


	4. Mugged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A group of bandits decide to mug the wrong adventurer, it goes better for some than others...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long absence, I should go back to posting every week from now on. Also planning to post two more Skyrim stories soon, can't go into too much detail here but stay tuned! Now the story...

Rusty swords and maces in hand the bandits waited silently in the bushes for a wealthy noble to pass by. Even if they carried no gold their family would be more then happy to pay for their safe return. All but the most stubborn of families paid ransom when their loved ones ears turned up on the doorstep...

"Are we going to sit around here in the rain all day? Talos knows we'll catch our death out here." Gregor complained shaking water from his long blonde hair.

"Will you shut up? Someone's coming." Hissed Gruk, the bandit leader. The orc hadn't always been their chief, he earned that right through sheer ferocity and strength. Now he stood above the other bandits in fur and leather, himself wearing an expensive and heavy set of Nordic armor.

Gruk was right, down the road came an adventurer clad in green glass armor. A terrifying spiked mace rested at the woman's hip. Gregor didn't want that tearing into his flesh, but the armor worn by the khajiit could set them up for a month, assuming they could take it. There was only one of her and eight of them...

"Arrows at the ready!" Gruk commanded. Shield in hand he advanced on the khajiit, letting her know of their presence. Instincts kicked in as the adventurer's hand flew to the hilt of her mace, Gruk didn't like that. "Unless you want and arrow in your head I suggest putting your hands where I can see them." Then he growled through his large teeth. It wasn't a bluff, three of his bandits had arrows trained on her, the khajiit could see no other way out and obliged. No need to die in a hopeless fight in the woman's opinion. She'd wait for an opportunity to strike, whether she would ever get one was the question...

With his prey immobilized Gruk advanced on the khajiit, when he got uncomfortably close she let him know with a hiss. Gruk cared not about her yellowed teeth and sharp claws and focused instead on the mace. He had never seen another like it, not only it's unique design, but the green shimmer of magic it possessed.

"Where did you get this kitty? Did you steal it? Did you forge it?" Demanded Gruk holding the mace unnervingly close to her face. Weapons like this would prove both deadly and menacing, if the cat could forge them.

Before the woman had a chance to answer a terrible roar came from the grey sky. The khajiit let out a sigh of annoyance-not fear- knowing what was to follow. From the sky down swooped a grey dragon who circled twice before snatching up an archer. Poor sod, they’d never find his body, but it meant one less arrow pointed at the khajiit, and that gave her the courage to reach out her hand.

“I’m gonna need that back.” Suggested the adventurer extending a hand to retrieve her mace. Wordlessly, jaw agape in amazement and fear Gruk handed her the mace. Flowing into a defensive position the khajiit started spouting out tactical orders. “Aim for the wings, bigger target, if it can't fly it can't get away. When it falls go for the eyes and avoid the tail.” She shouted with the confidence and calm demeanor of a general, like she had done this a hundred times.

Gruk drew his sword as the dragon swooped down once more, roaring when's lucky arrow struck its wing. Landing in anger and annoyance the dragon exhaled a fiery breath, melting the flesh off the bandit who fired it. Then it turned to Gruk and the khajiit releasing a mighty roar daring them to attack.

“Fire breather huh?” Observed the khajiit, a wry smile spreading across her face as she charged. Once close enough the woman yelled the words “fo krah diin,” a cloud of freezing air engulfed the dragon, weakening it even more. Distracted and enraged by pain the beast was helpless as the adventurer swung her mace into its eye. Half blind the creature tried viciously to fight back and failed miserably. With one final swing the woman ended the beast’s life, and it crumpled to the ground.

Gruk could not believe his eyes as the carcass began to combust. Fire blazed and the dragon's flesh and scales burned away to ash carried off in the breeze leaving only bones. At the same time blue and red fire swirled around the khajiit, not burning her, but being absorbed.

“My name is Kat, and I'm Dragonborn. So any bandit who wants to live can throw down their sword now and run to Whiterun to turn themselves in.” The Dragonborn half explained, half threatened, holding up her bloody mace.

Before Gruk knew what was happening his whole horde had turned tail and run. Cowards, Gruk expected this kind of thing from Gregor, but the rest of them?

“Pathetic milk drinkers the lot of them!” Gruk cursed the bandits under his breath. How could they abandon their leader like that to be killed by the legendary Dovahkiin? In some small way perhaps he understood, but if any of those bastards called themselves “true nords” ever again he'd haunt their ass. After all he was orsimer and even he was more nord than those cowards.

“Bandits huh, not exactly the most loyal folk?” Kat joked. Never before had she seen something like that, tough as nails bandits turn into fragile kittens right before her eyes. But what to do with this one? She couldn't let him go mug helpless people could she? No, Farkas wouldn't like that, or any of the companions really, but perhaps there was someone who'd appreciate the orc’s skills...

“You any good at killing people without getting caught?” Asked Kat inspecting her mace thoughtfully. Intrigued by the question Gruk sheathed his sword, he of course had heard the rumours of the Dragonborn and the dark tidings from Dawnstar, but never believed them.

“Keep talking.” Gruk replied crossing his arms. A wicked smile spread across the Dovahkiin's face as she pulled a note from her pocket.

“Confidence? I like it. Take care of this job, then find me in Dawnstar” Kat handed him the parchment, then her smile turned sour. “Screw it up and there'll be nowhere in all of Tamriel you can hide.” The khajiit smiled the whole time, flashing yellowed teeth in an attempt to intimidate him.

Gruk nodded showing he understood. As quickly as Kat had arrived she retreated down the road, disappearing amidst the trees.

“I'll see you at home.” Whispered a voice, Gruk couldn't tell where it came from but he knew who it belonged to. A chill ran down his spine but he pretended not to be bothered.

“Nice party trick Kat.” He tried to laugh but gulped instead and checked his pockets for his coin purse, empty. With a sigh Gruk shook his head, not entirely disappointed, more impressed. “Sneaky, sneaky kitty.”


	5. Tips for Novice Adventurers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paarthurnax and Odahviing meet with the Dragonborn at the Throat of the World to give some advice for adventurers new to the land of Skyrim. To keep this summary short I'll leave you with this dear reader, leave the god damned chickens alone.

“What is better, to be born good or to overcome your evil nature through great effort?”

“There he goes again, spewing his opinions on philosophy. New adventurers need real advice Paarthurnax, not the fancy words of some dovah poet.” 

“And what advice would you give them Odahviing?” 

“I don't know about mercenaries, but I'd love to give an earful to that khajiit who calls herself Dovahkiin. How can she parade around presenting herself as dovah when she doesn't even know our tongue? It's arrogance is what it is.” 

Beside him Paarthurnax began to laugh rather uncontrollably, this was just too amusing.

“Quoting the World-Eater now are we? Ha, and still you always come when she calls!”

“I do not, you're thinking of Durnheviir, guardian of the soul cairn.” 

“No I'm not, we both know you always come to her aid when she calls.” As if on cue the Dragonborn came running up the snowy cliff-side and threw off the mask she'd stolen from a dragon-priest. Blood poured from the khajiit’s nose as she sank into the snow next to the two dragons.

“Paarthurnax, Odahviing, what are you talking about?” 

“Yes Odahviing, what were we speaking of?” Paarthurnax teased giving the other dovah a nudge with his wing.

“Tips for folks like you foolish enough to become adventurers.” Odahviing answered flashing Paarthurnax an annoyed look.

“Oh sorry to hear that. Did he break into the ‘better to be born good or overcome your evil’ speech again?” With a nod Odahviing and Kat started laughing, leaving Paarthurnax perplexed and growling deep in his throat.

“So what advice would you give Dovahkiin?” Charging up a healing spell for her wounds Kat thought of two nuggets of wisdom she wished someone had told her.

“Never let college apprentices experiment on you, unless you like the colour green. And never play drinking games with daedric princes, or always do, it's pretty amusing.” 

Up the path Kat had walked a dozen Whiterun guards and half as many Thalmor and Imperial soldiers rushed onto the scene.

“Stop in the name of the law!” Shouted one of the guards drawing a sword.

“Sure there isn’t any other advice you'd like to tell?” Asked Odahviing, taking off into the air. Ignoring the dragon Kat quickly stood up and threw her mask back on. 

“DUR NEH VIIR!” She shouted deflecting an arrow with her stahlrim sword. A third dragon appeared from thin air, already clawing and tearing apart the Dragonborn’s foes. Odahviing landed behind the small army, surrounding them on all sides with dovahs and the Dovahkiin.

“Don't kill chickens.” Kat sighed rushing headlong into battle.


	6. For Fuck's Sake Farengar!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me warn you right now, this is a weird one... Also it technically should have come out before "Tips for Novice Adventurers" but it's so weird that I debated even posting it, but then I was like "Hey I've seen weirder stuff on this site" So I'm posting it anyway!

“Well that's new.”Kat commented observing the enormous chicken running around by the Honningbrew meadery. It was almost as tall as the windmill by Pelagia farm making it larger than any dragon she’d ever seen.

“What in Oblivion did Farengar do to that poor chicken?” Farkas laughed at her right side. After seeing the destruction the gargantuan chicken could cause Jarl Balgruuf had hired the Companions to take care of it. And after Vilkas laughed hysterically for several minutes at the thought of a giant chicken he went to see what Irileth and the Jarl were so worried about. Then he called for the Dragonborn stating in his letter: “There is a huge, and I mean HUGE fucking chicken in Whiterun hold. Dear gods please help!” At first Kat didn’t believe him but in a time when dragons were being brought back from the dead, anything was possible.

“I can't say Companion, I’m just here to see the job done and pay you.” Irileth responded with her stone cold serious demeanour. She hadn’t changed at all since Kat had first met her.

“So are we Skyrim’s official chicken patrol now?” Kat joked causing her and Farkas to laugh uncontrollably.

“This is serious Dragonborn! If this...chicken gets out of hand it could destroy a whole village!” Irileth explained weighing the consequences of letting the chicken live. Eagerly Farkas grabbed his sword, beside him the other Companions did the same.

“We kill the beast today, all of Whiterun eats well this winter!” Farkas cried charging towards the monstrous chicken. Regaining her composure Kat pulled an ebony bow from her back and nocked an arrow. No way she’d risk getting trampled by that thing, she refused to go down in history as the Dovahkiin who was killed by a chicken of all things, even a horker would be more honourable...

One thing was for sure though, there was no way she’d be arrested for killing this chicken. Kat pulled back the bowstring with all her pent up rage towards hens. All the times she had been fined and arrested for shooting (or melting, slashing or freezing) a chicken accidentally, and let her arrow fly. Her arrow struck the beast in it’s massive wing, followed by a horrible squawking. Among the giant feathers Kat’s arrow looked more like a toothpick.

Enraged and in pain the chicken tried to run but was stopped in it’s tracks by Farkas and the other Companions. It didn’t take Farkas long to realize he’d made a grave mistake. Perhaps placing himself directly in the path of a ginormous chicken wasn’t his greatest plan ever. As the chicken lowered its foot Farkas raised his sword, impaling the hens foot on the steel.

“Nice job Farkas.” Kat smiled slinging the bow across her back as she began running. Up the hen’s leg Kat climbed digging her claws in for a better grip.

“Where are you going Kat?” Farkas asked more excited than confused. 

“Up!” Kat said only briefly halting her ascent before reaching the chicken’s head. Desperately trying to maintain her balance on the chicken’s wobbling head Kat reached for the sword at her side and plunged it into the beast’s flesh. With one final squawk the massive chicken was no more, and the ground around it shook when it collapsed. Kat rolled to the grass a few feet away and after having a good laugh with Farkas he helped up his friend.

Cautiously a group of guards approached, intimidated by the large group of mercenaries, the giant chicken, the Dragonborn or maybe all three.

“Stop! You’ve committed a crime against Skyrim and her people!” Bellowed the bravest, or dumbest of the guards. They were going to arrest her for killing the goddamn chicken, no way in Oblivion was she going to pay that fine without a fight. Preparing a spell in her hand Kat pretended to look like she was making a decision to stall for time.

“What say you in your defense?” Asked the same guard. 

“See you later Farkas!” Kat cried summoning her steed Arvak from the Soul Cairn and jumping onto the horse heading for the Throat of the World. Eventually she’d have to face the guards, but first she wanted the higher ground, and a little help from a friend...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies again for the lack of posting, what I've learned this time is that I should just stop promising I'll have another chapter out in (insert random time) but I hope I'll be more consistent in the future. (Post at least once of month, cause I'm lazy) :)


	7. Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What two chapters in one day? Madness. Anyway I thought I'd just post this one now because it's short.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was inspired by a prompt I saw in a fanfic by AthenaFangGranger26, titled "Skyrim 30 Day Challenge" so if you haven't yet go read it! The prompt was essentially "Does your character have any scars? Why or why not?"

Go to any tavern in Skyrim and you'll find drunkards boasting about how they earned their most recent scar, but not the Dovahkiin. Skyrim's most famous warrior, who fought, and won more battles and faced more terrible foes, she'd never talk about her scars unless asked.

Most of Kat's scars were covered by her thick brown fur, but the thinner fur on her face couldn't hide the deepest scar. Her largest and most notable scar ran along her face, beginning above her right eye and running along her face til it ended by her left cheek. 

Each time the Dragonborn was asked the story would change. Sometimes she got the scar at Helgen when the executioner nicked her face. Other times it was her first encounter with a giant when she met the Companions, or in a stampede of mammoths. Many times she got it in Sovngarde fighting Alduin. Spiders, gargoyles, vampires, draugr, master necromancers and novice spell casters. The story changed, the scar did not.

Perhaps the best stories were the ones that made the Dragonborn seem more human, falling off a bar stool onto a mercenaries' sword, scratched by a wolf, some even believed she gave it to herself accidentally the first time she used a blade. A rare few were convinced it was Kat's own father when he was high on skooma. Those folks had a tendency to go missing and later turn up dead.

Some people were dedicated to finding the truth, bards who wished to tell her tale, scholars scribing her story in tomes. To them she had but one simple question: "Does it matter?" It always left them stunned and confused because it was true. No one knew whether Kat got her scar fighting a dragon or fighting a bar stool, and no one likely ever would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to take this second to thank KittyCatInBlue, china62, digitally, Arkani, and ItsBlueBaby for supporting me! Thank you. :)


	8. First Dungeon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kat and Farkas raid a dungeon in search of a fragment of Wuuthrad, things don't go exactly as planned...

“Farkas will be your shield sibling on this venture, whelp. Try not to disappoint, or get him killed.” That had been Skjor’s warning for her and now it seemed like neither of them would getting out of here alive. Trapped behind iron bars Kat could only watch as four bandits cornered her friend.

“Time to die dog!” One of them shouted. Bandits typically hurled insults at their opponents, usually something like “milk drinker” or the very original “die bitch!” But “dog”? 

“Which one is that?” Asked another bandit, a woman this time. 

“Doesn't matter, he wears that armor he dies!” Spat another raising his sword. What in Oblivion were they talking about? Maybe they weren’t regular bandits but thugs with some reason for hatred towards the Companions...

“Killing you would make an excellent story, dog.” The woman laughed. Kat couldn't see Farkas’ expression as he replied to her.

“None of you will be alive to tell it.” With a clang Farkas’ sword dropped to the floor. At first Kat considered shouting “What’s wrong with you!?” Then fur began to grow from Farkas’ skin, his form engorged. His hands turned to claws and he began to howl, he looked like a wolf on two legs. 

That's when the thugs attacked. They charged at Farkas with swords drawn, but Farkas easily mowed them down with a few sweeps of his claws. It only took a few seconds for all the thugs to fall and Farkas stood victorious surrounded by their bodies. After a moment the werewolf turned to look Kat in the eye, despite their red glow Kat thought she saw some Farkas in there. He was in control, not some wild beast.

Remembering what he needed to do Farkas turned away from Kat and wandered off through a large doorway. The metal bars rose with a creak and Kat was free once more, and watched the ground as she walked taking care not to step on the bodies.

“Sorry about that, I hope I didn’t scare you.” Said Farkas as he walked back into the room. His hand was rubbing his neck and he looked almost embarrassed. 

Part of Kat told her to run, to put as much distance between herself and this werewolf as possible, another part reminded her that this was her friend, and they had a job to do.

“You didn't scare me.” She lied, patting him on the shoulder as she passed him. “Besides,” she turned back to face him and drew a sword, “We have more draugr to kill!”

Giving Kat a slight smile Farkas followed her deeper into the ruin.

*****

“The fragment of Wuuthrad should be in there.” Farkas gestured to the room ahead of them. It was a long room with a oddly carved wall at the back, and an altar in front of it. Cautiously Kat stepped through the doorway and heard it slam behind her.

“Farkas?” She asked. No reply came, he must have been trapped behind the door. Calmly Kat turned back to the task at hand, Farkas was clearly capable, he’d be able to make it out on his own, Kat wasn’t nearly as hopeful about her chances though. As she tiptoed down the down the narrow room Kat counted the coffins on either side, there were at least twenty. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought, it wasn’t the draugr sleeping inside that scared her, but waiting for them to spring out and stab her.

Sheathing her sword Kat instead pulled her bow from her back as she reached the end of the chamber. The fragment of Wuuthrad was on the table, a shard of a once mighty axe, Kat’s hand hovered over it. The draugr hadn't awoken yet, she could only guess as soon as she took the fragment they’d wake. 

Stalling for time Kat turned to look at the wall behind her, words of some language she’d never seen were carved there, one of them began to glow a bright blue. Kat stepped closer, was it magic of some kind? Voices began to chant in her ears, everything but the word went dark around her. Kat fell to the the ground blinking several times till her vision returned, when she looked back up at the word it’s glow was gone.

With new found confidence Kat reached for the fragment, if the draugr didn’t wake after that racket she hoped they never would. Quickly she snatched it up, placing it in a satchel by her side, then the first draugr kicked open it’s coffin.

“Gods damn it.” Kat cursed stepping up onto the alter for better height. She drew back her first arrow and watched it soar into the draugr chest, it crumpled to the ground and died again. Three more popped out this time, three more arrows flew, two hitting. The third draugr rushed towards her and was shot down just as it reached the alter. More and more draugr broke free of their coffins, eventually surrounding Kat still standing on the altar.

They taunted her, laughing and swinging swords towards her, in response Kat began slicing off heads.

*****

“Kat! Kat are you alright?” Farkas shouted through the door pounding on it until it suddenly swung open on it’s own. He looked around, open coffins with no draugr. At the end of the long chamber Kat knelt on an altar, bloodied and panting, draugr were piled high around the altar, to many for Farkas to count. One draugr behind Kat stirred and hissed trying to claw his way up to Kat, without turning around Kat stabbed it one more time and stumbled off the altar, away from the dead draugr.

Farkas rushed to Kat as she collapsed, catching her as her sword clattered to the floor. 

“Were you really just beyond that door the whole time?” She asked looking up at him. Still holding her up Farkas nodded. Kat sighed and charged a healing spell for her wounds.

“Let’s leave before I punch you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This actually happened to me, Farkas got stuck outside and I had to kill about twenty draugr. After that he just strolled in like "what's up?" Enraged I of course punched him in the face.


	9. Proffesional

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I kind of enjoyed the whole "sneak into the party" bit of Dimplomatic Immunity, Kat didn't...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suggested by Amethyst97Skye. I had a lot of fun writing this! (Sorry it took so long.) I hope it lives up to your expectations. :)

So, so stupid, Kat thought resisting the urge to smash her head into the wall out of sheer annoyance. Standing on the staris in the snow Kat felt naked without her armor. The only weapons she carried were claws and teeth, though they wouldn't do much good against the elven blades and arrows, if the elves caught on to Delphine's little scheme.

"Your invitation please," Said the Thalmor guard sounding rather bored.

"Is there a problem?" Kat asked, upon taking a breath, trying to prevent herself clawing at his face. Hand resting cautiously on his sword handle the man answered her.

"I don't recall any khajiit being on the guest list," He drew the sword out ever so slightly from its sheath, trying to intimidate her, and it was working. But she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of showing it.

Crap, Kat thought. She wasn't very adept at lying, they were going to figure her out before she even got inside. Crap, she knew she should have gotten someone, anyone else to do this. One of her friends at the thieves guild, Brynjolf perhaps. That man could sweet-talk his way out of any situation. Or Karliah, who Kat bet could sneak in here and back out without being caught once. Silently Kat cursed Delphine for being so paranoid, if the Thalmor killed Kat tonight, she promised to haunt the old Blade.

"Perhaps this will refresh your memory." Kat announced handing him the forged invitation Delphine had given her. The Thalmor almost didn't believe a khajiit was invited to the party, Kat could see it clearly on his face, but in the end he fell for her facade waving her off with an apologetic bow.

"Enjoy the party, Kat."

*****

Surrounded by enemies Kat tensed, searching for Malborn and her weapons. No sooner had she spotted the bosmer when a Thalmor woman approached, blocking her path.

"Welcome," Said the woman, a little surprised. "We haven't met before, I am Elenwen, Thalmor ambassador of Skyrim. And you are?" Kat considered giving her a false name but the guard outside had already called her "Kat". That meant her name was on the guest list. For Talos' sake Delphine! For a paranoid semi-crazy lady she didn't know the first thing about keeping one's identity secret, don't use your real bloody name!

"My name is Kat," She faked a smile.

"Yes I remember your name from the guest list, easy to remember I suppose. What brings you to this..." Elenwen paused searching for the right words. "To Skyrim?" Kat was just beginning to panic when Malborn interrupted, saving her skin.

"Excuse me milady, but we seem to have run out of the alto wine..." Irritated Elenwen turned to face him, looking down at the wood elf like he was some lesser creature. Oh how Kat would enjoy killing her...

"I thought I told you not to bother me with such trifles," She turned back to Kat, "My apologies. We'll have to get better acquainted later. Do enjoy yourself." With that she stalked off before Kat's thoughts could get too sadistic.

"Can I get you a drink?" Malborn asked rather loudly, then lowered his voice to a near whisper. "You need to cause a distraction, and then I'll sneak you out.

Rolling her eyes Kat stepped away from the bar, surveying the gathered guests from around Skyrim. First she saw the ambassador Elenwen and made a mental note to avoid her, next she saw Maven Black-Briar. What was she doing here? Doesn't matter Kat decided, best to just keep her distance. Though she truly hoped none of Maven's thieves were here or they'd surely be caught.

So, so stupid, Kat thought again. Why couldn't she just kill every Thalmor here? Pretending to be a guest and casually lying was more Brynjolf's style. As Kat was about to give up, maybe disarm a guard and steal his sword she noticed a friendly face in the sea of slaughterfish.

"Jarl Idgrod?" She asked, approaching her friend.

"Oh it's just you Kat. Be mindful here, you walk among adders." Spat Idgrod. Nodding Kat agreed, informing Idgrod she needed her to cause a distraction. "Anytime my friend," Idgrod laughed, happy there was someone else here who shared her views of the Thalmor.

Casually Kat walked back towards the bar as Idgrod stepped up to a drunk man, shouting at him to keep away from her. Smiling, Kat slipped out the door behind Malborn, hearing Idgrod yelling something about snakes. Kat almost laughed when she and Malborn entered the kitchen. In the corner stood a khajiit woman chopping vegetables with a knife.

"Who comes Malborn? You know I don't like strange smells in my kitchen..." Hissed the woman. Calmly Malborn continued, leading Kat towards the larder as he excused them.

"Guest who's feeling ill, leave the poor wretch be." Unhappy with his answer the khajiit growled at him.

"A guest in the kitchens? You know this is against the rules..." Before Kat could protest or steal a knife to threaten the woman Malborn spoke once again.

"Rules is it Tsavani? I didn't think eating moonsugar was permitted. Maybe I'll ask the ambassador."

Again the khajiit woman hissed, and she waved them away saying, "get out, I saw nothing."

Kat's armour, weapons, and miscellaneous potions lay in a chest. Quickly she changed into her enchanted glass armour, fitted an arrow to her bowstring and stepped out into the hallway. This was more her speed, sticking Thalmor full of arrows from around corners, not dressing up and speaking fancy words. Smirking Kat drew back her bowstring and sent the arrow flying into the back of the first Thalmor she saw.

*****

Three Thalmor lay dead on the snow, blood still warm as Kat snuck into Elenwen's Solar. Inside were a few roaming guards and two voices, an altmer and someone else, servant perhaps? There was no need to kill him, Kat's quarrel wasn't with him, only the high elves. Silently she crept behind a pillar, hidden from prying eyes, and eavesdropped on their conversation.

"Please I need that money! I earned it didn't I? I found your stupid thief in the that filthy sewer!" Demanded the servant. Perhaps he was a spy, but which thief did he mean? Why did the Thalmor care about the thieves in Riften's Ratway?

"Silence fool! Do not overestimate your value to us Gissur! You've proven quite competent, but don't think we can't replace you like that," Shouted the Thalmor man snapping his fingers for effect. Even from across the room Kat could hear Gissur gulp out of fear. Bloody Thalmor, they didn't even treat their allies with respect... "We do have, other, reliable informants."

Gissur paused, considering the man's words.

"Etienne talked didn't he?"

"Everyone talks, in the end."

*****

Kat didn't stick around to listen to any more, this was a friend of hers, and she needed to go find him. She could see the basement door just down the stairs, but she'd need to pass the Thalmor's office to get in. if she simply snuck past the men would notice her, so instead Kat used her brain. Beside her on a table sat a tiny fragile cup, smiling she picked it up and tossed it to the far end of the chamber. On the opposite wall it smashed into a hundred pieces and the two men in the office came running. Neither had the smarts to look back, or they would have seen Kat flattening herself against the wall, and silently laughing as she ducked past the door way. Behind the desk sat an unlocked box, which Kat emptied completely. There was no gold or gems inside, only a few handwritten notes and a key, presumably to the basement/torture chamber.

Kat was still internally laughing as the basement door clicked open, when she heard Etienne scream. Anger fizzling inside her she descended the stairs at a run, jumping down the last few and charging into the cell the screams erupted from. Growling she dove onto the Thalmor who had been slicing Etienne with a dagger, and pinned him to the ground. He hardly had any time to resist before Kat sheathed Chillrend in his chest.

"Etienne?" Said Kat, climbing off the dead Thalmor.

"Please, I-I've told you everything," Etienne begged, chained to the wall and unable to move. It seemed he'd given up a long time ago, from either pain or exhaustion, his head lolled down resting on his shredded chest. Poor sod, he wasn't even hoping for a rescue, just an end...

"I'm not here to torture you, it's me Etienne, it's Kat." She explained, breaking him out of his shackles and throwing his arm over her shoulder to support him. From above the door creaked open and three sets of feet shuffled into the room.

"Come out immediately spy, we have your accomplice!" Commanded a voice, it was the Thalmor from earlier, with Malborn in tow, a sword to the Bosmer's throat. "You will show yourself now or he will die!" Cried the altmer. Closing her eyes, Kat sighed and helped Etienne sit on the floor while he shook his head.

"Please don't leave me here, please Kat." He whispered, eyes watering.

"I'm getting you both out of here, alive. I promise." She whispered back retrieving her sword from the Thalmor's body and raising her arms above her head in surrender. "Aright!" She cried. "I'm coming out." Up on the balcony Malborn's hands were tied behind his back and a guard held her sword against his neck, again Kat sighed. "Just couldn't resist getting captured could you Malborn?'

"This is it? A little kitty managed to infiltrate our embassy and slip by our defenses? Go correct your mistake." The man ordered. Nodding her head the woman removed her sword from Malborn's neck and headed down the stairs, approaching Kat cautiously. Above the man prepared a fire spell, ready to scorch Malborn if Kat refused to cooperate. "Good kitty, now drop the sword." For a moment Kat considered disobeying and slashing her way up to Malborn's corpse, but instead let her sword clatter to the floor, a better plan coming to mind.

"FUS RO DAH!" She shouted up to the balcony, sending the Thalmor man crashing into the wood behind him. "Jump Malborn!" Were Kat's last words before she lunged at the woman in front of her. Catching her off guard Kat managed to slash the woman's face with her claws. Dazed, confused, and now in pain the woman's sword dropped, and Kat howled in delight as blood dripped from her claws. Growling, Kat's tail lashed as she charged at the woman sinking her teeth deep into the soft flesh of her neck. Perhaps tooth and claw were more useful then she initially suspected...

*****

Safely three pairs of feet limped out onto the snow outside the embassy. Bruised and broken, but still very much alive as Kat had promised. Hands on his head Malborn seemed to be grumbling something illegible, panicking. Panting, Etienne kneeled on the overgrown path, exhausted.

"Thank you Kat, I thought you'd abandon me in there." Etienne sighed as Kat offered him a hand. With chapped and bleeding lips Etienne smiled and took it. Malborn, on the other hand wasn't feeling quite so thankful himself...

"I hope it was worth it kitty, the Thalmor will be chasing me for the rest of my life now!" He complained, pointing an accusing finger at Kat. Once Etienne was stable on two feet Kat turned back to glare at the Bosmer. For a few silent moments she stared at him with amber eyes before turning back to Etienne.

"I'll take you back to Riften Etienne, there's just one thing I need to do first," She began. Quickly she swung back around to Malborn using the momentum to punch him as hard as she could, and the elf fell into a snow drift. "We can go now."

*****

"And that is why next time you should hire a goddamn professional." Kat hissed as she finished recounting the tale to Delphine.

The Breton went quiet then, holding a hand to her face, thinking it over. "Agreed."


	10. Let's Talk Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breton scholar Ned the Self-Published travels across Skyrim to gather people's opinions about love for his book. The answer to "what is love?" varies....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap I haven't posted to this since APRIL!?!?!? Oooopppss....  
> So this one is a bit short but I wanted to get it out before I start typing up a three parter. ;) (The story is written and I just need to type it, don't worry it won't take six months this time.)
> 
> So this one is more of what I'm calling an "interview style" (which I've never used before but wanted to try out.) I'll still be posting my "regular" sort of chapters don't worry. If you like it feel free to leave suggestions for future topics as I would love to write more of these. (Plus these are super quick and fun to write so it means you get more chapters more often!)
> 
> :)

"So why are you asking me about all this shit again?"-Kat, Khajiit Dragonborn.

"I'm writing a book on the philosophy of love, using opinions from nobles and common folk alike. Now if you would please answer the question, what does love mean to you? In your own words please."-Ned the Self-Published, Breton. 

"Love is the opposite of what I feel for that asshole Nazeem."

*****

"Love? You dare talk to me filthy peasant? Have you even been to the clouds district? Don't bother me again swine or I shall call the guard!"-Nazeem, understandably hateable.

*****

"You know you're in love with someone when you'd do anything for them, including bend the law."-Ysolda, Breton, Dragonborn's wife.

"So, uh, why are you digging that hole?"-Ned, unknowing witness.

"You don't want to know."

*****

"So how did you know you loved Ysolda?"

"She hired mercenaries to kill me, and I didn't feel the need to stab her so..."-Kat, literal heart-stopper.

*****

"Love eh lad? I'm not so sure it exists, lust on the other hand...."-Brynjolf, shady as fuck.

*****

"Love is...hold on a second...my uh brother is actually the thinker."-Farkas, Nord, member of the Companions.

"Take your time."

*****

"LOVE! LOVE? Love and praise almighty Talos! For he ascended from the realm of us filthy maggots! And so eight became nine! Those Thalmor bastards call us blasphemers for loving Talos! But what love is more pure than that of a god I ask you!"-Heimskr, Nord, annoyingly loud preacher.

"HEIMSKR! Its two a.m. in the goddamn morning! Quit killing my buzz or you'll see how 'pure' my wrath can be!!"-Kat, unusually sensitive ears.

*****

"M'aiq knows not much about love. But M'aiq was taught once you find it, never let it go."-M'aiq, Khajiit, wise rambling madman.

*****

"Read a book once the 'Lusty Argonian Maid'. Not sure you could handle it."-Brynjolf, has read one book.

"Well that's not really what I'm looking for,"-Ned the Innocent.

"You want to get a drink sometime?"-Brynjolf, flirts with everything that moves.

"I'm afraid I'm very busy with my research..."

"Right to the fun stuff huh lad? I like your style."

"THAT IS NOT WHAT I MEANT."

*****

"Pffft, love? You're joking right? My twin is the sensitive one."-Vilkas, Nord, apparently the 'thinker' of the two.

"Farkas told me you're better with words."-Ned, unintentionally offensive.

"What did you just call me? A poet?"-Vilkas, poet hater.

"No, no Sir, that was your brother! I swear I would never!"-Ned, occasional coward.

"BASTARD! Where is he?"-Vilkas, needs anger management.

*****

"What was the question again? Something about stabbing?"-Kat, forgetful and stabby.

"Once again, the question is how do you define love?"-Ned, fed-up researcher.

"I'll tear out your throat you bastard!"-Vilkas, currently tackling his twin.

"If I'm a bastard so are you! We're twins you fool!"-Farkas, can be the smarter one sometimes.

"Would you happen to know why those morons are fighting?"-Kat, surprisingly unconcerned with the well-being of her friends.

"PLEASE JUST ANSWER THE QUESTION."

*****

"So Farkas, what did you learn today about love?"-Kat, currently pinching Farkas' ear.

"That friends who love each other prevent each other from murdering their siblings."-Farkas, a mess of cuts and bruises.

"And you Vilkas?"-Kat, also pinching Vilkas' ear.

"Love prevents me from throttling my brother no matter how bad I want to."-Vilkas, two black-eyes.

*****

"May I ask you Sir, what does love mean to you?"

"How did you reach the top of my mountain?"-Paarthurnax, Dovah, loves his mountain.

"I, uh climbed I guess?"

(Growling, screaming. Running footsteps.)

"DEAR GODS NO!!!!"

"RUN PUNY MORTAL! YOU DARE TOUCH MY MOUNTAIN!?"

*****

"You know you love someone when you start to miss them when they run off 'adventuring' six days a fucking week!"-Ysolda, pent up aggression. She and Vilkas should start a support group.

"That's actually good advice. May I ask what's going in the pit?"

"A nosy scholar who asks too many questions."

*****

"Do you ever get lonely Brynjolf?"

"Are you joking lad? I'm a lone wolf! A solitary star! A one-man army!"

*****

"Sure I get lonely. People think the life of an adventurer is full of wonder! When really it's full of wandering. About ninety percent of it is getting lost in swamps and woods. Eight percent is getting lost in caves, and the last two is getting lost in cities. Luckily for me, I usually have Farkas to help me get unlost."-Kat, directionally challenged.

*****

"Sometimes I do miss Vilkas when I'm getting lost with Kat...Don't tell him."-Farkas, big ole puppy-dog.

*****

"A lone thief in the night! A sole flickering candle! A sheep with no flock...Maybe I'll send Farkas a letter...."-Brynjolf, perpetually lonely.

*****

"Love is...."-Kat, drawing a complete blank.

*****

"Accepting."-Farkas, most adorable werewolf ever.

*****

"Helpfull."-Ysolda, concealer of evidence.

*****

"Always there to bail you out of prison."-Brynjolf, interviewed from behind prison bars.

*****

"MY MOUNTAIN! YOU CAN'T HAVE IT!"-Paarthurnax, angry dragon, should join that support group.  
*****

"Love is happy to help you find your way."-Kat, couldn't read a map to save her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. Yes, it's cheesy. I regret nothing. Cheese is good in moderation. :)


	11. Drink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So Kat is, shall we say "strange"? (Vengeful , impatient, vicious, a plain old murderer) on a normal day when she'd sober. When she and her friends get drunk, shit goes down. Shit that involves goats, carts, singing and of course, one really bored deadric prince. :)
> 
> Thanks to Amethyst97Skye for recommending Sanguine's quest, it fits Kat really well and I loved writing it.
> 
> This is going to be Part 1 of 3 about this wacked up adventure.

"I have an idea," Announced Kat. "I name some vile creature, and if it scares you, you take a drink."

"And what's in it for us Harbinger?" questioned Vilkas.

"The more honest you are, the drunker you get." Kat explained. Across the table, Farkas cheered and raised his mug.

"An excuse to get drunk? Come on brother, this will be good!" Farkas smiled, elbowing Vilkas. 

"I'm in, I want to know what scares the lass," Brynjolf agreed, lifting his tankard to meet Farkas'.

"I know exactly what scares her, I just want to drink." Serana smiled slyly, bearing sharp teeth that matched Kat's own sinister smile. Then Kat turned to Lydia, kicking the quiet housecarl under the table.

"What about you Lydia? You want to drink?" Kat coaxed, offering Lydia a mug.

"Anything for you my thane. Besides, someone's got to tell your drunkard friends when you're lying through your scary teeth." Said Lydia.

"So you're scared of my teeth?" Laughed Kat. With a 'hmmph' Lydia grabbed the mug and downed the frothy contents. Silently the barmaid slipped in, replaced Kat's drink and filled Lydia's to the brim. She knew this would end in a lot of mead covering the entire floor, and probably a fight.

"Alright, I want in, but I want to know what Kats afraid of." Said Vilkas. 

"Fire away," Offered Kat.

"Spiders," Vilkas didn't even hesitate saying the first one.

"Okay, I feel like that one was aimed at me." Whined Farkas, downing his first mug of ale.

"Yeah that was pretty vicious, Vilkas." Lydia laughed.

"Like that spider on the wall over there." Serana added. Farkas was crouched under the table in seconds, while the rest of the group burst into laughter. 

"Oh gods where!? Kill it! KILL IT!" He cried.

In her fit of laughter Kat's drink sloshed onto the floor, and she had the sense to place it on the rickety table before it all spilled. Regaining her calm, Kat leaned down meeting Farkas' eyes, one hand on the table to steady herself.

"There's no spider Farkas, Serana is just a snake." Nodding, Farkas shakily stood up, casting a death glare towards Vilkas, then Serana, who smiled to him.

"Vampires," Vilkas continued, staring across the table at Kat. Waiting for a twitch, any hint of fear, and finding none. Calmly she returned his stare, unflinching. Lydia and Brynjolf both took a drink, Serana and Kat chuckled. 

"Been there, done that. Come on Vilkas, get serious." Kat challenged, rolling her eyes. 

"Gargoyles."

Lydia and Farkas nodded at each other, they had been on enough adventures with Kat to be terrified of the creatures encased in stone. On enough to see Kat jump a mile high when they burst forth from their stone prisons. Both of them took long chugs from their tankards and the barmaid quickly refilled them, Kat made no move.

"You lying cow," Serana accused sliding Kat a drink.

"Alright fine, but to clarify I'm not scared of gargoyles and I can't control how I'm affected by jump scares." She admitted, emptying the mug.

"Falmer," Vilkas suggested. No one moved. "Come on falmer are creepy!"

"No, disgusting, hideous, and foul smelling sure, but I wouldn't say scary." Lydia explained.

"Drink lad," Brynjolf ordered, passing him a mug.

"Get real Vilkas, I wanted to get drunk tonight." Vilkas smiled at Kat's challenge and took a swig.

*****

Farkas was the first to pass out, followed shortly by Lydia, and eventually Serana. No one left who knew what Kat was truly afraid of, but there was one who knew how to spot Kat lying.

“Dragons?”

“Oversized flying lizards, more annoying than anything else.” 

Vilkas turned to Brynjolf, both men took another chug. “Truth,” Stated Brynjolf, like it was a fact he could read on Kat’s face.

“Ghosts,”

“On the contrary, I find it amusing to sneak up behind unsuspecting phantoms and slit their throat.”

“Truth.” Two more drinks downed.

“Wolves.”

“Nah, too cuddly. Like a smaller version of Farkas, or you!” Kat joked.

“Truth.” Brynjolf agreed with a laugh, only ceasing after Vilkas kicked him under the table.

“Fine, Alduin the Worldeater.” This time, Kat burst into laughter.

“Come on lad, even I knew that! It’s like you’re not even trying!” Brynjolf sighed. “Also truth, now let me take a guess.” Brynjolf paused, studying her intently, watching for a sign that would betray her, give him a scrap of information. It could be a nervous tick, like drumming her fingers, averting her eyes, or, angrily flicking her tail the longer he stared.

“Sabre cats,” He guessed. This time Kat was too quick to crack a joke, too fast to break out laughing.

“Funny, I saw one the other day that looked exactly like my aunt, gods what a bitch-”

“Lie, drink up kitty.” He mocked, Vilkas clapped slowly.

“Really? Sabre cats?” Sneered Vilkas as Kat finished off her tankard and slammed it upside down on the wooden table. “What are you afraid of other khajiit's too?”

Sighing , Kat smiled, hiding her rage just long enough for Vilkas to be lulled into a false sense of security before she lunged. Growling she sprung over the table, sending drinks flying and tackling Vilkas to the ground. Cursing, Brynjolf righted the table that had been knocked over, and yanked Kat off of Vilkas by the arm.

“Don’t you ever say that again fucking bastard!” Kat hissed drawing Chillrend from her side.

“Lying bloody thief!” Cried Vilkas, spitting on the floor and reaching for the longsword at his back.

Standing between the two semi-drunk, armed warriors Brynjolf gulped. This was not how he intended to spend his Loredas night.

“OH! There once was a hero named Ragnar the Red, who came riding to Whiterun from ole Rorikstead!” Sung Mikeal, oblivious to the tense standoff behind him. Confused, Kat and Vilkas turned to face the bard, neither lowering their swords from Brynjolf’s neck.

“We’re kind of in the middle of something here Mikeal, can you play your silly lute elsewhere?” Vilkas half suggested, half demanded.

“Unlike you lot some of us have to work for our next meal!” Declared Mikeal, impressing both Kat and Vilkas with his boldness.

“It’s a rather catchy tune though isn’t it?” Kat admit, lowering her sword. An idea crossed her face and she smiled slyly, Vilkas winked back. Gulping, Brynjolf retreated to the far side of the bar. Unless the lass was planning a heist, he didn’t want anything to do with her “plans”, which tended to lead to jail, or limping through town to buy a healing potion.

“And the braggart did swagger and brandish his blade as he told of bold battles and gold he had made!” Sang Vilkas leaping onto the bar-much to Hulda’s distaste-and holding his Skyforge sword high for all to see.

“But then he went quiet did Ragnar the Red when he met the Shieldmaiden Matilda who said!” He continued, pointing the sword at Kat now.

“Oh you talk and you lie and you drink all our mead,” Kat chanted, hopping up beside him and pointing an accusing sword at ‘Ragnar’. “Now I think it's high time that you lie down and bleed!”

“And so came the clashing and slashing of steel as the brave lass Matilda charged in full of zeal!” Vilkas added, blocking and attack from Kat and countering with one of his own. Gracefully, Kat sidestepped the blow, swinging her leg behind Vilkas’ and knocking him off-balance. The Skyforge sword clattered out of reach, so instead Vilkas snatched a tomato from Hulda as Kat raised Chillrend above her head.

“And the braggart named Ragnar was boastful no more…” She thrust the blade down, skewering the tomato in Vilkas’ hand, sending it’s leaking onto the bar. “When his ugly red head rolled around on the floor!” Kat finished, turning for the last line to address the drunken crowd.

Offering a hand to Vilkas Kat hauled the giant nord to his feet.

“But seriously, you mention that again and I’ll fucking stab you.”

Together they stood on the bar and bowed for the cheering patrons, although their drunken “cheers” were either way too enthusiastic, or half consciously lifting a mug before collapsing, all except Brynjolf, who was stealing a coin purse from poor Farkas’ pocket. All he did was briefly cease his thieving spree to glance up at Kat. Guiltily He smiled, before bolting out the back door with half of the patrons’ money in tow.

Rolling her eyes Kat hopped off the bar. She’d deal with Brynjolf later, preferably when she was buzzed and could appreciate him for the scummy friend he was. Her thieving, sassy tongued friend with a greed for gold, and a sexy voice.

“Quite a show my khajiit friend, quite a show!” Laughed a clapping man approaching them. Draped in all black with light brown hair, and a dark bottle in his hand. “Care for something a bit stronger?” He shoved the bottle towards Kat’s palm. With an eyebrow raised, Kat took it by the neck and uncorked it.

“What’s in it for you?” Questioned Vilkas, sitting down on the counter Hulda just wiped. Kat sniffed the contents of the bottle, no poison that she could detect, more importantly, no skooma.

“Why entertainment good sir!” The man laughed, met with a scowl from Vilkas. “Tell you what, how about a friendly bet? Say...two-hundred gold, I’ll even throw in this staff.” He suggested, pulling out the fanciest staff Kat had ever seen from the folds of his cloak. Green with a red bud at the top, carved like a gargantuan rose. “You can drink that and keep standing, the staff is yours.”

“Kat, I’m not sure this is a good idea,” Vilkas warned, but Kat took a chug despite hearing his words, and handed it to nord with a sly smile. Suspicious he glared at the liquid, then at Kat, both looked like they could kill him. Rolling his eyes, the man snatched the drink and took a swig.

“You can call me Sam.”

Swi?” Kat slurred, reaching out to take the bottle again. A little surprised Sam handed it back.

“That's close enough.” Sam laughed.

“How is it Kat?” Questioned Vilkas as Kat downed a second gulp.

“Oh, oou woulda care pour it,” She laughed, the biggest smile on her face. Scowling at the blatant lie, Vilkas snatched the drink back.

“I suppose you’ve succeeded Kat, you said you wanted to get drunk tonight.” He said, taking a sip.

*****

“Are you sure this is safe?” Asked Vilkas, kneeling inside a wooden cart stopped at a cliff’s edge by Ivarstead. Kat and Sam laughed, each holding onto one handle.

“Safe? I said fun, nobody ever said anything about safe.” Kat replied, looking to Sam and nodding. Laughing, the two shoved away from the cart, sending Vilkas off the cliff edge with a scream. Gravity smashed the wood into a thousand pieces on a boulder, and flung Vilkas into a waterfall. A splash, then a clang could be heard as he landed in a pool of water, surrounded by cracked planks.

“You uh, think he’s?” Started Sam, scratching his head.

“In my experience, we don’t want to be around when the guards find out.” Kat suggested, grabbing his arm and making a run for it into the night. Behind, Sam laughed uncontrollably.

“Most fun I’ve had in centuries!” Sam announced.

“KKKAAATTT!!!!” Shouted Vilkas, his anger echoing in the sky. Kat was far too drunk to note either comment as she bottled for the tree line.


	12. Drank

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we see the return of Whiterun guard #9, Kat gets slapped a lot, and Farkas blushes like a milkmaid.

"Wake up you drunken blasphemer!" A woman cried. Kat could scarcely hear over the ringing in her ears. "Get up before I call for the guards!"

"Mmmm, but the floor is nice and cold," Kat groaned dragging herself up. Everything was too bright, too hot, too loud. Wincing, Kat tried to avert her eyes from the torches lining the walls and focus on the palm flying towards her face. She reached for a weapon with her right hand, attempting to block with her left, but her movements felt sluggish. Her head pounded as the woman's hand connected with her face. Too pained to even hiss in retaliation, all Kat could do was rub her cheek and listen.

"Do you even know the extent of the damage you've caused?" Demanded the woman, shoving a giant's toe in Kat's face. "Look what you've done to the temple!"

Squinting, Kat glanced around at statues, smeared with wine and giant's blood. "How in Oblivion did I get to Markarth?" Kat wondered. She also wanted to know where her weapons had disappeared to but had a hunch that question would only piss off the priestess even more. "I'll uh, send you some gold to pay for the cleanup." Kat offered, stumbling towards the door.

The priestess stormed forward, knife in hand, and held it to Kat's throat. "Drink assured I'm eagerly awaiting it." She smiled. With a gulp, Kat nodded once and shoved the door open. Keeping an eye on the dagger she crept backwards until hitting something-someone solid, Farkas.

"Farkas, where have you been?" Kat asked, rubbing her pounding head. For a few seconds the large nord simply stared, one eyebrow raised.

"Me? Passed out drunk, then sniffing around all of Skyrim for you! You left Vilkas at the bottom of a cliff three days ago!" He paused then, taking a moment to calm down and point at Kat. "And uh, since when do you wear dresses?"

"What?" Kat replied, noticing for the first time that she was wearing a dirty green dress instead of her usual armour. 

"No weapons OR armour? Who are you and what have you done with Kat?" Farkas joked before recalling his anger. "Never mind that, you almost got Vilkas killed!"

"Aw no, we almost lost the smart half of the twins." Kat yawned, eyes adjusting to the light she headed for the town gates. Turning red partly due to anger, but mainly embarrassment, Farkas followed. The bloody waterfalls roared in Kat's already throbbing ears, so she clamped her hands over them and sped out to the stables.

"Kat stop!" Demanded Farkas, spinning her around by the arm. "What happened? Vilkas mumbled something about a Sam, and a staff, but then again you had just shoved him off a cliff..." Farkas explained.

"Yes, I understand, I pushed your brother off a cliff, blah, blah. We need to get back to Whiterun. Got enough septims for a carriage?" Kat growled, crossing her arms, tail lashing. Farkas had his mouth open, and an accusing finger pointed Kat's direction, like he had an argument prepared, but was choking on the words. Instead of speaking, he pawed at his belt, where normally he kept a bag of coins, and found none.

"Brynjolf," They both said at the same time. With a sigh Farkas started down the road bound for Whiterun. A slight laugh escaped Kat before she followed.

"Why does he always rob me? Just once can't he rob Lydia instead? Or Serana? OR ANYBODY ELSE?" Farkas whined, Kat quickly catching up to him.

"Maybe it's because he likes you?" Kat suggested.

"What in Oblivion makes you think he even tolerates me?"

"He didn't steal your clothes this time."

"Well I suppose that's progress."

"Progress? It's a damn milestone! Last time he mugged you, you had to make a mad dash for Jorrvaskr with your little pecker flapping in the wind!" Kat laughed, summoning the image to mind. 

"It was freezing outside! And I thought we agreed not to talk about that!" Farkas cried. 

"Farkas, come on. It's me we're talking about, every promise I make is likely to be broken sooner or later."

*****

"Well that could have gone a lot FUCKING better!" Growled Farkas, nursing his blistered, burned arm.

"What is it now?" Kat groaned, the high walls of Whiterun coming into sight, illuminated by the setting sun.

"You melted my arm!" He yelled, showing off the full extent of the damage. She'd burned the shit out of his arm, but melted was a bit of a stretch. Kat understood though, he was releasing all his pent up rage, the cause of said rage she was less clear on.

"Now, now, I melted your armour, I only burned your arm." Kat explained. "And what else was I supposed to do? The giant was charging, you didn't give me a weapon, and my aim isn't great!"

"Gee, I'm not sure Kat, maybe you could have, not stolen a goat and sold it to a giant? Also," He paused, then said every word slowly in the hopes it would help Kat understand. "You...are...an...ARCHER! I've seen you shoot soaring birds out of the sky!"

"Yes, with arrows. In case you hadn't noticed I'd make for a shit mage."

"Why did the college of Winterhold accept you again?" Farkas asked as they passed the ruins of the Western Watchtower.

"The Arch-Mage owed me a favour, now let me see your arm..." Kat offered, glowing yellow magic dancing around her hands. Gulping, Farkas backed away.

"Haven't you done enough witch?"

Rolling her eyes, Kat seized Farkas' arm, his blisters fading away, the agitated red skin fading back to a pale colour. "You know how many times this witch has saved your ass?" Her voice was stern, but her mouth was curled in a smile.

"No, but you know they number of times you've 'accidentally' stabbed, bludgeoned, shot, burned, shocked, bit, scratched, or shouted at me? Sixty-three times. I'm telling you, you're more danger to me than any dragon or draugr." Farkas laughed, rubbing his freshly healed arm.

"Come on Farkas, I've saved your ass how many times?"

Farkas smiled. "I stopped counting after a hundred. Now we should get you back to Ysolda. I'm sure she's worried sick about you, and I have a word or two to say to Byrnjolf." He said as they neared the stables.

"Right, right. I've got my wife to find, and you've got your boyfriend." Kat joked, making a beeline for the stables. Usually there were two horses housed there, today there were three, seated atop the third was Brynjolf. "Speaking of whom." 

"Brynjolf!" Cried Farkas. The white horse reared, nearly sending the thief flying before Farkas and Kat reached them. A scowl on his face Farkas grabbed the reins, but Kat headed for a poster that clung to a rusted nail on a post. A poorly drawn image of Kat's face had been scribbled on using charcoal. Below the drawing were the words: "Lost, answers to 'Kat'. Will pay 50 septims for information leading to her location, bring to Ysolda in Whiterun."

"Oh, evening lad, found your lost kitty I see?" Brynjolf purred, his voice chillingly calm in the presence of the far stronger and larger nord warrior. 

"Cut the crap Brynjolf, I know you stole my money! Now hand it over, Snake." Farkas demanded. He held out his palm, and used the other to pat the horses' neck. Worried about getting kicked, Farkas never noticed when Brynjolf snatched the reins back up.

"You know you love me." Was Brynjolf's reply.

"What makes you think that?"

"Simple," Brynjolf leaned in close enough to whisper. "You haven't told the guards yet." He chuckled, nudging the horse forward with his knees and into a gallop. 

"Damn thieves," Farkas sighed, watching the man trot along the path, stopping briefly to flash Farkas a wink before disappearing around a bend. Farkas hardly noticed Kat approach, holding a poster of herself.

"You could probably still catch him." Kat said, handing him the drawing, which Farkas only glanced at.

"True, but I doubt he or the guards would appreciate a werewolf running about." Farkas muttered skimming over the note.

"Then stop blushing like a love-struck milkmaid and pay attention!" Kat hissed.

"I take it you're not happy?"

"And they say you're the dumb one, no of course I'm not happy Farkas! Fifty septims! Fifty! We could easily pay ten times that, or fifty times that!" Kat growled, as they marched into the city, heading for the marketplace. Like everyday, Ysolda was there, cradling her little basket, using all her knowledge of trade to get the best possible price. If she really set her mind to it, Carlotta would be paying her to take tomatoes.

"Ysolda?" Kat called, momentarily forgetting about the poster with the excitement of seeing her wife again. Merrily, she charged forward, locking Ysolda in a loving embrace. The second Ysolda's hand squirmed free, she slapped Kat across the face, and shoved away.

"Right, that's why the reward was so low." Farkas laughed, approaching them. Cradling her chin in her hand, Kat glanced up at him. Her thick fur meant it couldn't hurt as badly as she made it out to be. It was odd, Farkas had seen Kat take slashes from swords, arrows from bows, and spells from mages, and hardly flinch before chugging a potion. Stub her toe though, or get a splinter, she transformed into a barrage of complaints.

"This seems to be happening an awful lot to you lately, do you normally piss women off this much?"

"You could have mentioned she was pissed at me!" Kat hissed, Ysolda crossed her arms, scanning for a guard.

"Well, you shouldn't have shoved Vilkas off a cliff!" Argued Farkas. Remaining silent, Ysolda flagged down one of the passing guards.

"That was like.." Kat paused, muddled memory trying to recover. "Three days ago! Move on already!"

"Is everything alright here?" Asked the guard, hand on sword, ready to draw.

"Is it a crime to abandon your wife, steal her wedding ring, marry a hagraven, hurl your best friend's brother off a cliff and disappear for three days? Because that's exactly what my wife just did. Also, she sent me an invitation to the ceremony." Ysolda demanded, words pouring out of her all pent up and lightning quick. She had to have rehearsed this speech.

"Well um I don't, stealing yes. Did the uh, best friend's brother die? W-wasn't it kind to invite you to the wedding? I-I was unaware hagravens could marry..." Stammered the guard, slapped just as hard as Kat by all the information. She and Farkas were still trying to make sense of it themselves.

"Hold on, hold on, I married a what?"


	13. Drunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kat's little misadventure gets resolved.

"Oh there once was a hero named Ragnar the Red..." Kat sang, leaning against the cold, prison bars beneath Dragonsreach. This wasn't her first time behind bars, and it wouldn't be her last. All she needed was one lockpick to get out of here, but all her gear was in her adventuring bag, gods only knew where that had gone. If she could just speak with Ysolda, apologise...

"Who came riding to Whiterun from old Rorikstead." She continued, and threw a rusty fork-she'd been given to eat stale bread and cheese with-against the opposite wall. It made a small clang when it bounced off the stone.

"No time for singing now Kat!" Called a voice, followed by the sound of three pairs of feet, one limped, one shuffled, and the last stomped.

"Vilkas?" Kat sprung up and wrapped her fingers around the bars. Vilkas wore trousers and a thin white shirt, his right arm was bandaged in a sling, and he was leaning most of his weight on Farkas. Behind them, tapping her foot was Ysolda. The same guard who arrested her approached with a key.

"Vilkas decided two days here was enough punishment, and finally hobbled up here to prove to the Jarl he was indeed still breathing. I argued that two weeks wouldn't have been enough." Grumbled Ysolda while the guard unlocked Kat's cell. She stumbled out, and turned to her wife, hoping to speak. The second Kat opened her mouth, Ysolda raised a fist, and whipped her head away, refusing to even look at Kat. "Don't speak." Ysolda growled. "You've got a week to kill the hagraven and get that ring back on my finger, Farkas is going with you to make sure you don't take any unexpected detours." And with that, she stormed out.

*****

"You know what this is called Farkas? Bullshit, this is called goddamn bullshit!" Kat yelled, her fireball colliding with yet another frostbite spider. 

After getting out of prison, Ysolda wouldn't even allow Kat back in the house to grab a armour, or a bow, or a damn septim. She and Farkas had spent a day and a half trekking out east, and cutting through an army of spiders and wolves. All in all, a shitty week, though Kat couldn't recall most of it.

"Actually I think the brainy term for it is blackout drunk, now KEEP THEM AWAY FROM ME!" Farkas cried from his very defensive position behind Kat. "Gods damn their beady little eyes!"

"Could you focus please? You're making it harder to for me to imagine Sam's skull when i bludgeon it with MY staff!" Two more fireballs flew into the eyes of the last spider. Only then did Farkas muster up the courage to step infront of Kat, and poke the spider's corpse with his sword. It twitched, and Farkas screamed before slicing it into a messy pulp.

"Yeah, I'm fairly sure it's dead Farkas." Said Kat, unfolding a map given to her by Farkas.

"I don't know, I think it was looking at me." Replied Farkas. "What are you looking at?"

"The map you gave me, it's a magical piece of paper that tells you where you're going." She paused a moment, crumpling the parchment between her fingers, near;y slashing it to smithereens with her claws. "Hold on, we've been marching east for nearly two days, how did we end up by Markarth?"

Sighing, Farkas grabbed the map and flipped it over. 

"Where would I be without you?" Asked Kat, shoving the parchment into a pouch and setting off towards an outcropping of trees. 

"Markarth apparently," Farkas muttered, following Kat towards a shoddy shack encircled by wooden stakes. Mounted on a few of the stakes were rotting goat heads, each surrounded by buzzing flies attracted by the stench. Standing by the door (which was really just a hole in the wall) was a hunched over hagraven, claws out, breathing in their terrible, pained way.

"My love! You've returned! Finally we can consummate our marriage!" The creature screeched, throwing it's arms up in the air. The very thought made Kat retch and fall into the dirt, Farkas began laughing.

"You mind if I smite your wife?" Joked Farkas. Distracted, he never saw the bright ball of fire that the hagraven tossed his way. The flames caught his leg, and Farkas half limped, half fell behind a tree. "Again with the fire?!"

Kat stood and wiped her mouth with a sleeve. "Oh quit your complaining, dragons try to roast me alive every three days!" Trying not to puke again from the combined smell of burned flesh, decaying goat, and worst of all hagraven, Kat sent a shard of solid ice towards her second wife. With a hiss the hagraven's hand started glowing a deep orange, as did Kat's ice spike, and it froze in mid-air.

"Oh shit." Kat choked out, diving over the stake fence to the ground a few seconds too late, the shard lodged in her stomach. "Didn't know hagravens could do that."

"Kat you alright?!" Farkas demanded, still hidden by another tree. Kat didn't reply, too busy inspecting the wound. From her back, the ice had burrowed through her left side and exploded out of her skin, leaving a freezing, bloody mess. For a moment, Kat removed her hand to let Farkas see, and gazed back at him, teary eyed.

Hissing, the hagraven stalked forward, charging up a second fireball, they had seconds before it reached them. To Farkas, Kat mouthed the words: "one, two, three."

"FUS RO!" Was all Kat could manage, knocking the hagraven to the ground. 

Sounds wrong without the 'DAH', Farkas noted, but it gave him enough time to lop the witches' head off. Dropping the bloodied blade Farkas rushed back to Kat, pulling a small healing potion from his satchel. With a grunt, Kat yanked the ice shard out of her stomach and used a bloody hand to tip the potion to her lips.

"Hey Farkas?" Kat started after chugging the entire thing.

"Yes?" He replied.

"Let's never talk about this little 'venture again. Ever."

"What? That you married a hagraven? That you planned to fuck said hagraven? Or that you puked and got your ass kicked? No promises my friend. No promises." He laughed, offering her a hand.

"Shut up, or I'll throw you off a cliff instead of Vilkas next time." She answered, though she accepted his hand. "Now I wander, what loot could that hagraven have been hiding?" Kat finished, trying to change the subject, she headed for the shack. Much to Kat's delight she had left her armour and weapons with her recently deceased second wife. Almost crying tears of joy, she picked up her bow and slung the quiver over her back. "Oh how I've missed you!"

While Kat fiddled with clasps, Farkas inspected the cottage, finding a water-stained note, and grumbling at the holes in the roof.

"What did you find?" Kat asked, struggling with the final fastening.

"The location of your wedding."

*****

Sneak, sneak, arrow. Sneak, sneak, stab. Sneak, sneak, FUCK HEAL! RUN FOR YOUR PUNY LIFE! Were Kat’s thoughts for the past few hours.

“Remind me not to drink again, ever.” Whispered Kat, aiming for the head of a necromancer. No one else was left to notice when he dropped dead, alone in the darkness.

“I would, but you’d have broken that policy by next Loredas.” Farkas chuckled, heading up a staircase at the back of the room deep inside Morvunskar. At the top stood a chest, to it’s left a dark blue, wibbly-wobbly orb, around the size of a person. Kat gave Farkas a smile that said; “I’m about to do something really stupid.” So Farkas crossed his arms and smirked back; “Haven’t you already?”

Sighing Kat stepped into the glowing bubble and unconsciously closed her eyes. I’ll show him, Kat thought, I can make more than one stupid decision in a week! When she opened her eyes next, the room was still incredibly dark, but this time the path was illuminated by lanterns, and torchbugs buzzing in the trees? Consumed by the sights, Kat completely forgot to sneak down the path. Instead she wandered, stopping to look at everything, and turning in circles while she crossed a bridge. She didn’t see Sam until she ran into him backwards.

“Hey, Kat! Good to see you finally made it!” Greeted Sam, pulling her into a hug. 

“It was quite the trip,” Said Kat, pushing away. Most of her anger had already been taken out on the mages, spiders, giants, and various other monsters she had viciously killed over the past week… “Now where’s my damn staff Sam!?” She demanded, shaking him by the shoulders.

“Okay, calm down there kitty.” Sam laughed, a purple orb surrounding him for a mere second then fading. His light brown hair had shifted to form two black horns, and he’d gained at least a foot in size. Pale skin had turned red with black patterns, and his dark robes had been replaced with grey, heavy armour, a daedra no doubt. “Actually, it’s Sanguine, daedric prince of debauchery. You’ve earned that staff, I haven’t had so much fun in ages!” He announced, the gorgeous staff materialized in his palms. Mesmerized by its beauty Kat almost forgot to ask; 

“Hold up, I got drunk with a what?”

*****

“Sorry we got drunk with who?” Wondered Vilkas, slamming his drink on the table.

“Sanguine, daedric prince of debauchery, and in my opinion, fun.” Kat replied. 

“Right, right, now where were we?”

“Don’t you want to hear about I’ve been doing this past week?”

“You pushed me off a cliff, that’s all I need to know.” His shifted into a smirk then. “Hagravens?”

Tail lashing angrily, Kat took a drink. Across the table, Lydia and Serana were already passed out, Farkas was keeping a vigilant eye out in case Brynjolf was foolish enough to come back, and apparently he was. Vaguely, Kat recalled some job he was working, Nazeem probably, Kat was inclined to thank him for doing the city a service, Farkas on the other hand…

“Brynjolf!” Yelled Farkas, knocking over the table in his drunken stumble to reach the thief. From his position at the bar, Brynjolf spun around, the hood falling from his face. Sluggishly, Farkas threw the first punch. Almost laughing, Brynjolf turned Farkas’ strength against him, caught his arm and pinned it behind his back.

“Good to see you too lad.” Laughed Brynjolf, giving Farkas a quick kiss on the ear before making a run for the door. Both Vilkas and Kat stared openly at the display until Vilkas broke the silence. 

“Bears?”

“You guessed that an hour ago.” Kat sighed. “Come on, you’re the smart twin. There has to be something you haven’t guessed yet.”

“Well…” Vilkas sounded reluctant.

“Spit it out big guy.”

“Fine! Horkers…” Suggested Vilkas. With an oddly smug expression, Kat took a chug. “Ha! Horkers? Are you messing with me?”

"Absolutely not, my hairy friend. Think about it Vilkas, no knees, no weaknesses.” Explained Kat.

“Why are you telling me this?” Said Vilkas in an excited whisper. Smiling, Kat took another sip.

“Because no one’s going to believe you.” Now she slammed her empty mug on the sideways table. “We should probably get Farkas home before he does something stupid.” Kat suggested, wandering over and throwing one of Farkas’ arms over her shoulder.

“Or someone stupid, did you see Brynjolf?” Vilkas asked, taking up his brother’s other arm.

“Was I just, kissed by a thief?” Farkas’ face was a mixture of anger, confusion, and what looked to be delight, though Kat was sure he’d never admit it.

“And mugged by one, he stole your coin purse again.” Kat pointed out.

“Wait, should I be pissed-off or turned-on?” Farkas wondered. 

“Definitely turned-o-” Kat started, only to be interrupted by Vilkas.

“Alright new rules! Kat, no more drinking with daedra!”

“Actually it was a daedric prince…”

“Don’t care. And Farkas, no hooking up with thieves!”

“Gods, I swear, accidentally marry one hagraven and it’s all ‘no more drinking with daedric princes Kat!’”

“Yes I’m sure it’s all very unfair for you, but may I remind you, you pushed me off a cliff!” Vilkas yelled, leading them out of the bar towards Jorrvaskr. For a few precious moments, all three of them were silent, just looking up at the sky. 

“So uh, anyone have Brynjolf’s address? No offense, but uh, you guys are kind of boring when you’re sober.” Said Farkas.

“Yeah,” Vilkas and Kat agreed.

“Who wants to go behind my wife’s back and find Sanguine?” Kat offered.

“Do you mean the hagraven, or the redhead lass?” Asked Brynjolf, stepping out of the shadows briefly. Everyone but Kat laughed.

“Never again.” Kat sighed.

“Lie,” Brynjolf announced.


	14. It's An Organized Mess

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Too much loot=unorganized and annoyed Dovahkiin

"Items to enchant in this chest, dragon priest masks in this cupboard. Dragon bones in...Ysolda where'd my dead dragon bits go!?" Kat cried. She had a very "organized" system for her loot, and hated misplacing things to the point of panic when she did.

"I put them in the dead animal bits bin, you know, because they're dead animal bits?" Ysolda yelled up the stairs, fully aware of her wife's supposedly "organized system". It started off well, until Kat began making strange exceptions that were simply confusing. "Or maybe I put them in the smithing box..."

"What? Why would you do that?" Kat questioned, peering down at her wife from the balcony.

"Well, dragon bones qualify as both dead animal bits and smithing materials. I got confused." Ysolda explained with a shrug and continued stirring her stew pot.

"Yes! That's why dragon bones and scales have their own separate spot now." Kat muttered to herself, walking down the stairs. "Gotta check the trophy room and the basement now. With my luck there will probably be skevers down there..." When Kat reached the cellar door she pulled her sword out of its sheath and jumped down without using the ladder.

Crashing and cursing could be heard beneath the floors of Winstad manor, the entire building shaking like there had been an earthquake as the Dovahkiin shouted. Kat sprang up from the basement, dropping armfuls of dragon bones and scales on the floor, her head just poking out from the room below. 

"What in Oblivion just happened Kat?" Ysolda demanded, crouching next to the trap door.

"I told you, damn skevers. I'll clean it up later, don't go in the basement."Kat sighed and charged up a healing spell for her cuts as she ascended the stairs. A few short moments passed with no shouting and/or killing and Ysolda returned to her stew pot.

"Ysolda where did the soul gems go dammit!?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very short chapter, but I am hoping to get another one out today or maybe tomorrow.  
> And thank you to everyone who left kudos and comments, they are incredibly encouraging! :)


	15. Head or Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The first meeting of Kat and the Companions.

Nothing. Kat had nothing. Well, unless you counted the burnt Imperial uniform she’d stolen off a dead man along with his sword, bow, and a handful of septims. 

Since arriving in Skyrim, she’d been caught with Stormcloaks, captured by Imperials, semi-rescued by a dragon and nearly been killed half a dozen times in between. 

“Fucking Skyrim.” She grumbled, stumbling down the path to Whiterun. 

The setting sun seemed to set the dead grass on fire. And cast monstrous shadows of the swaying trees. Kat swatted a branch out of her way and saw the towering city seated atop the hill. She felt the branch swing back, it’s needles stabbing into her fur at the same time the ground shook. 

Kat spit pine needles out of her mouth and steadied herself. In a panic she pulled her bow off her back and pointed an arrow skyward. There were no black wings among the clouds.

“It’s gone. It’s gone. You’re safe.” She breathed, collapsing against the pine and holding her head between her knees. Her heartbeat slowed and she stopped feeling like she was going to hurl. 

Then the shaking came again, accompanied by shouting.

Kat sprung back up, bow in hand and ran through the trees. The shaking came from a farm in the field below Whiterun, from a giant to be more specific. Warriors clad in iron armour slashed at his knees. A woman wearing leather fired arrows into its flesh, though the beast didn’t seem to notice as it crushed cabbage and almost caught a poor farmer beneath its colossal feet.

"Head or heart, thick-skulls.” Kat sighed, nocking an arrow and aiming for the giant’s head. “Head or heart to kill.” She released the bowstring, and braced herself for the fall. First, the giant let go of the club in its hand, tall as a man, then crumpled to its knees. Kat’s arrow poked out of its head, so small in comparison in could have been a twig. 

Cheers rose from the iron-clad warriors, who were harder to tell apart the closer Kat got. The farmer grieved the loss of a whole crop of cabbage, and probably his only income. The woman in leather studied the giant’s corpse and pulled Kat’s arrow from its skull. 

“Hey ice-brain!” She called to the two celebrating nords. They both turned at the same time. “This wasn’t our kill.” One of the warriors had the expression of a kicked puppy and the other a snake robbed of its meal. Kat couldn’t contain a chuckle as she approached.

The woman gestured with the bloody arrow towards her. 

“I guess we have you to thank adventurer?” She asked. Kat scratched the back of her neck.

“Happy to help, it was clear these fools weren’t doing anything.” She replied, pointing her bow to the two warriors. The puppy turned red and looked at his feet, and the snake boiled like a pot of water, the woman laughed. 

“Ha! Vilkas looks ready to run you through! I like your wit stranger, and I appreciate your aim. I’m Aela. That’s Vilkas, and his brother Farkas. We’re with the Companions.” She explained.

“Who are the Companions?” Asked Kat.

“Nothing you’d be interested in stranger.” Snarled Vilkas, arms crossed.

“Oh ignore him.” Farkas pitched in. “My brother isn’t quick to trust, even if you save his hide.” 

With a roll of his eyes Vilkas tossed his arms in the air in defeat and headed back towards Whiterun. 

“Fine, get yourself mugged, I’m going back to Jorrvaskr.” 

Farkas cringed and rubbed the back of his neck, Aela chased after Vilkas and scolded him, Kat grabbed a cabbage off the ground and bit into it. 

“I’m sorry.” Said Farkas.

“I’m khajiit. I’m used to it.” Replied Kat, though she knew Vilkas was right, she took another bite of the cabbage. “Who are the Companions?”

“We’re a group of mercenaries for hire.” Farkas explained.

“So, you’re like the Fighter’s Guild from Cyrodiil?” Asked Kat, cringing. 

“Well, we do solve monster and bandit problems for coin, but we’re less of a company, we’re more like a…” Farkas paused. “A family.”

“A family of warriors for hire? Sounds like you’ve got plenty of stories to tell.” 

“Looks like you’ve also a got a story or two.” Said Farkas, looking at her burnt, tattered Imperial uniform. 

“Right, it’s a long story, and I’m not sure you’d like me much after it’s finished.” Kat replied. 

“You called my brother a useless fool, it would be hard not to like you. So how about you come by Jorrvaskr sometime and tell me your story?” Farkas offered. 

“I also called you a useless fool.” 

“It’s alright. That’s the difference between me and my brother, I’m just smart enough to know I’m a fool, Vilkas isn’t smart enough to realize that’s what he is.” Kat laughed at Farkas’ comment.

“Well, I’ll give you the short version of the story. I’m Kat, I’m a thief, a terrible liar, and my head was nearly cut off by Imperials a few hours ago before a dragon showed up and burnt everything to shit.” Kat summarized.

The nord was silent for a few moments.

“Ha! Well, I’m sure one part of that story was true, you are a terrible liar. You’ll have to stop by Jorrvaskr sometime and tell me why you’re wearing burnt Imperial rags.” Said Farkas, clapping her on the shoulder and heading off towards Whiterun. Kat smiled at the ground and chuckled.

“Hey Farkas!” Kat called. The large nord turned around. “Hit ‘em in the head or heart to kill, ice-brain!”

“Watch out for dragons, rags!” He laughed, waving her off.

“Fucking Skyrim.” She laughed, and rushed off to catch up. Perhaps Skyrim wasn’t so bad after all.


	16. City of Thieves, And Assholes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kat heads to Riften and joins the Thieves Guild.

Kat had come to Riften for the first time looking to earn some coin, sell some shit and to sleep for a good eight hours, she didn’t expect a knife to be held to her throat the second she entered the city.

When she finally arrived at the gate, a guard shuffled forward, blocking her path.

“There’s a visitor’s tax to enter the city.” He said.

Kat dropped her heavy bag and growled. “What’s the tax for?”

“The privilege of entering our fine city.”

“Ha! Really? Cause I heard it was a shit-hole full of thieves and corrupt guards.” Kat snarled accusingly.

“Alright, alright. I’ll let you in,” Snapped the guard pulling a key from a pouch on his belt. “Lower your voice or the whole city will hear you.”

Kat sighed and heaved her bag over her shoulder before shoving through the wooden gate doors. A man in leather armour tore down the street, and dove straight into Kat, knocking her sack away from her and pressing a knife to her neck. Guards chased after him, swords and shields in hand. A few guards had arrows pointed at the man using Kat as a meat-shield. Kat’s hand flew to grab the arm holding the knife, trying to pry it away from her neck.

Among the guards were panicked citizens, praying, hiding, one man just plain stared. 

“Stop thief! Put down the knife!” Ordered a guard with a bow, taking a small step closer.

“Get any closer and I kill the bitch!” Shouted the man, using his free hand, he pulled Kat’s head back by her left ear, exposing more of her neck. Kat hissed and tried to think. She could step on his foot and hope he loosened his grip...

While Kat planned, the man who was staring pushed his way through the crowd, he had red hair, and wore a fancy blue outfit. The red-head looked straight into the eyes of the man holding the knife to Kat’s throat and shook his head, like he was giving an order. 

Kat was jerked back, the man was leading her back towards the gates, where he was hoping to escape. The red haired man shook his head once more, and made some kind of signal with his hand to the thief, who ignored him. 

Growling, Kat jerked her head to the side, forcing the man to let go of her ear, and bit into his arm. Blood dripped where her fangs dug in, he dropped the knife and ran. Kat scrambled out of the way as the guards chased after. They fired their bows, the thief made it to the gate with six arrows sticking out of his back. Several guards went to deal with his body, and the rest of the gathered citizens dispersed. Kat searched the dirt path for her bag, but it was nowhere to be found. The city of thieves was living up to its name.

Kat stalked the red haired man through the streets of Riften. She followed him down to the dingy waterway where there was no one else to interfere, and slammed him into the stones. Lacking a dagger, and knowing her sword would draw attention, Kat threatened him with her claws, holding them close to his face.

“Sorry about that, I told that idiot to let you go and surrender himself.” The man apologized. “Mind moving those claws away from my face lass?”

“What? Who in Oblivion are you?” Asked Kat.

“I’m Brynjolf. I’m a thief, the moron who got himself shot was a new recruit of mine. Bloody idiot should’ve surrendered and taken the prison sentence. Kid could have been out in a few months.” 

“What kind of shitty thief are you? Exposing your crimes like that?” Kat demanded.

“You’re no better, walking around with your spoils.” Brynjolf replied.

“What?” Asked Kat.

Brynjolf didn’t reply, but held up a bag of stolen septims he’d taken from her belt.

“Give me that!” Hissed Kat, snatching it back from him.

“You’ve never done an honest days work for all those septims you carry huh lass?” Brynjolf smirked, like he could see her crimes printed on her face. “Is that how you earned your scar?” 

Kat’s tail lashed, and held her hands open at her sides, ready to tear and slash, but she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. She knew men like him, and if they could get a reaction, they owned you.

“Neither my scar nor my money is any of your business.” She replied.

“Oh but that’s where you’re wrong lass. Wealth is my business. How about you help me with a little errand and I’ll show you?” Offered Brynjolf.

“What kind of errand?”

“It involves me causing a distraction and you stealing a certain ring and placing it in a certain pocket.” Brynjolf explained.

“Ah, I see. So if this goes south your hands are clean and I’m your scapegoat?” Kat said. Brynjolf stood stunned, he’d never had that reaction before.

“Uh, yes?” He answered.

“Well, at least your honest.” Smiled Kat, tying the coin-purse back onto her belt. For the next few moments Brynjolf could only stare at her. “What? Never met anyone smart enough to know they’re being used? How dumb are the thieves in this province?”

“Well, you saw our newest recruit.”

“Oh don’t worry, I’m not going to get caught. I’ve been stealing since I was born.” Kat explained, then began strolling away. Brynjolf looked on after her. “You coming or what? Don’t you dare get cold feet on me now, thief.”

Brynjolf gulped and caught up to her, they both headed to the marketplace. Infront of the orphanage, Kat grabbed Brynjolf by the collar and pulled him closer.

“If I get caught, or you sell me out, I’m going to tell the guards you’re a necromancer who bewitched my mind to do it, or that you threatened to kill me, I haven’t worked out the details yet, but it won’t be good for you. Got it thief?” She hissed.

With a gulp, Brynjolf nodded. Kat released her grip on him and walked into the market, Brynjolf not far behind. 

“What have I gotten myself into.” He sighed.

******

When it was all over and done, Brand-Shei was led to the prison by guards, Kat had a fat purse full of coin, and Brynjolf had a promising new thief.

“You got a name, lass?” He asked, while Kat counted out every coin, she’d been cheated before and was determined not to let it happen again. 

“Kat.” She said, not looking up from her septims. 

“Well Kat, my Guild has a home in the Ratway sewers beneath Riften. You make it there in one piece I’ll have more jobs for you, well paying jobs.” He offered.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry you’re newest scapegoat will be there.” Kat muttered. 

*****

A few hours later Kat shuffled into the Ragged Flagon. It wasn’t quite as dingy as she was expecting, it even had that cutthroat kind of charm to it. Sheathing her sword, Kat limped her way to the entrance, seemingly unaware of the skever whose jaw was clamped around her boot and dragged behind her.

“No animals in the bar.” Declared the bouncer, stepping directly into her path. With a sigh, Kat grabbed the skever by the tail, and tossed it into the large pool of water in the room’s center. It thrashed and hissed when it hit the water. Still the man blocked her path.

“No animals in the bar.” He smirked, leaning in closer.

“Listen,” Kat said with a smile, flashing her pointed teeth. “I’m here to see Brynjolf. I don’t know who you are, and Bryn didn’t warn me about you, which means your not important. So you can move, or you can take a swim with the skever.” Kat growled, shoving him out of her way and heading into the bar.

“Give it up Brynjolf, those days are over.” Kat heard the bartender say.

“I’m telling you, there’s something different about this one.” Brynjolf argued, holding a drink. He had changed out of his blue clothing from the market, and wore the same leather armour as the newcomer who had been turned into a pincushion by the guards.

“You know,” Kat begun, taking the tankard from his hand and downing the frothy contents. “Thieves wearing uniforms is a horrendous decision, it’s like wearing a sign that says; ‘hey guards! Be sure to keep an eye on me while I’m doing illegal shit!’” 

“Any other helpful tips lass?” Laughed Brynjolf.

“I always have helpful advice for the fools of Skyrim. Firstly, your bouncer is an ass, I suggest you fire him. Also, you could get a hideout that isn’t so rat infested, and lastly you should pay for this drink, because debt is not a fun thing to have.” She concluded her speech, and slammed the empty cup back on the bar. Brynjolf looked intrigued, the barkeep looked like he’d seen the same cocky speech a dozen times before from recruits who always ended up dead or imprisoned.

“Who in the blazes are you?” Wondered Brynjolf, putting a few coins on the counter.

“I told you, my name is Kat. Most people think it’s easy enough to remember, or were you just dropped on your head a few too many times?” Kat replied, hopping up onto the bar to sit. Tail twitching, annoying the barkeep, who batted it away.

“Right, and who taught you the delicate art of thieving, Kat?” Asked Brynjolf, leaning on the bar.

“Some orphans in Senchal, a khajiit woman with a bow and a bad attitude, a pirate from Cyrodiil, a breton who ran a gang in the Imperial city, take your pick.” Answered Kat, grabbing an apple the barkeep was about to bite into. “So, you got another job for me or what?” She asked, mouth full of half chewed apple.

“You’re going to make us rich lass.” Brynjolf smiled. From behind the bar, Vekel rolled his eyes. Brynjolf said the same thing every time, and it always ended with a body, and wasted investments.

“You can count on it, Bryn.” Kat said with a stretch and yawn, and pushed herself off the bar. “I’ll be back tomorrow, I have to go find a bed to crash in.” 

Kat whistled as she walked out of the Flagon, only to be stopped once again by the bouncer.

“Don’t come back kitty.” He muttered as she passed.

Taking one last bite of the apple, Kat halted mid-step and threw the fruit at the man’s head. Distracted for a moment, she ducked behind him and kicked out his knee. He landed in the pool next to the delighted skever, who pounced for his face. 

“KAT!” Screamed the bouncer, as the khajiit bolted back into the sewers.

“I’ll bet a hundred gold Dirge kills her and dumps her body in the cistern by the end of the week.” Vekel announced.

“I'll take that bet, let’s make it two hundred.” Suggested Brynjolf

“Your loss Brynjolf.”

“We’ll see Vekel, we’ll see.”


	17. Favour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kat summons Odahviing for a ride, and he isn't too happy about it.

“OD AH VIING!” Kat shouted, looking skyward.

Red wings cut through the dreary rain-clouds as a roar cracked through the sky. Odahviing appeared overheard, his powerful wings causing tree branches to flail wildly. He scanned the ground surrounding the Dovahkiin, and landed in a small clearing between the trees. Rain danced on his scales, their crimson colour making it look like blood was pouring down his sides.

“Where are our foes Kaal Kaaz, Champion Cat?” Asked Odahviing, holding his head high and looking down at her. 

“Oh, uh, no foes here Odahviing, I just wanted a ride home.” Kat explained, one hand resting on the hilt of her sword.

“YOL TOOR SHUL!” Growled Odahviing, rage in his eyes. Fire washed over Kat, she closed her eyes and didn’t flinch. Most of the fire burned out, except for a miniscule flame clinging to one of her whiskers. Sighing, Kat licked two fingers and choked out the fire.

“I’ll take that as a no.” She muttered.

“I suggest you purchase a horse, Mey.” Odahviing hissed.

“What?” Asked Kat.

“Mey, fool. Perhaps you should learn our tongue before attempting to speak it, Nikriin.” 

“And what does that mean?”

“Coward.” And with that, he took off, back into the pelting rain.

Grumbling, Kat retreated under a tree, summoning a flame to her fingertips to keep warm. 

“Jeez, you ask one little favour from a guy.” Kat sighed, recalling she had another another flight option.

“DUR NEH VIIR!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has happened to me before, I summoned Odahviing for a ride and he just burnt the shit out of me. Maybe there was a spider or something behind me, I don't know, but still. That's rude Mr. Viing.


End file.
